Oh hi Rosemary! You’re looking lovely – if slightly angry. Why don’t you sit down and relax we’ll have a chat about it over some popcorn chicken?

Sweet mother of troll-faced UGLY last night was a raving spectacle of foul mouthery such as Rico hasn’t seen since our wedding night!

Yes, yes all kinds of fun happened with Amber acting like a five-year-old denied her tenth lollipop and Richard acting like he actually owns a pair of testicles so Michelle will pat him on his sweaty head and stop calling him Amber’s bitch, but I just can’t bring myself to write about it after the unbridled awesomeness that was Rosemary in fight-mode last night!

So it’s weigh-in time and fatties are hopping on and off the scales and – as is kind of typical for the third week or whatever we are in – numbers are slipping.

Our safe pink team who managed to hang onto something for longer than everyone else lose just over a kg a piece and are thrilled that the Evian-diluted urine bouncing around in their belly bags has not betrayed them.

Greens Todd and Gerald do big business and Todd is already looking remarkably skinny in the face, even if he’s still sporting that unflattering flesh-coloured bum bag. Rico reckons that sack will come in handy for collecting phone numbers because, judging by his head, he’s going to be a pretty boy and he swears he’s already seen Amber giving him the glad eye.

We’re both silent for a bit then because the thought of getting the glad eye from Amber is kind of like waking up after a bender and finding Cujo standing next to the bed wearing high heels and holding a breakfast tray.

Speaking of Richard and Amber, Richard does pretty well but his bulbous-headed offspring barely ditches a kilo and yet still manages to do the happy shuffle, much to Michelle’s disgust.

But Michelle has no idea just how greasy this slope’s about to get, because here come the dark blues…

Apparently there was some sort of incident mid-week that exposed the lying fuckery in Kev’s meal plan and sent half of Australia to a KFC drive-thru. Up to be weighed, though, Kev reckons his nutrition is on the money because mummy has been slaving over the hot stove to make sure there’s no popcorn in his chicken.

Rosemary’s lips are pulled tighter than Kev’s waistband, though, and it’s clear she’s spoiling for a rumble. She tells the trainers Kev’s put his all in, but then admits to the cameras that she’s not sure they’ve done enough and if the scales happen to bust them, she’s plannning to bust Michelle’s face!

And boy the scales are BRUTAL. Rosemary doesn’t even lose a kilo and Big Kev loses 2.2 which, by the sneer on Michelle’ barking hole, is barely equivalent to a good wank.

While Rosemary starts wrapping her knuckles and greasing up her pecs, Kev tries to fill Michelle with confidence by assuring her he’s sticking so closely to Shannon’s meal plan he can almost see it!

But there’s more wide-loads to weigh in and here come the other HWs Cher and Anita! And boy do they put the F in Fail, despite being last week’s Biggest Losers. Anita cries because she worked hard and even though the house stank like popcorn chicken, she didn’t have so much as a single trough! Cher is also devo because she’s desperate for a gut full of baby and this sort of weight loss is about as potent as the Pink team’s waterloaded wee sample.

So at this point, if no-one does worse, it’s a Heavy Weight bonanza below the yellow line. But it’s not looking good and one by one they clamber on to prove that lying in greasy sheets and dreaming of exercise does not actually burn any calories.

Army wannabe Katie drops over 4kg and fist-pumps so hard Commando Steve takes a step back in fear for his anal passage. the Black team do pretty well too and don’t even come close to taking the Yellow team’s place – and so it all comes down to Mandy and Brett.

And… they’re safe! Cher applauds Brett’s efforts because, despite an injury, he managed not to sneak down to the kitchen and turn healthy ingredients into the contents of a grease trap.

At this point our not-so-bright trainers realise what’s been nagging them all along: they’re usually in the pub drinking low-carb mineral water (Shanny and Michelle) and Virgin Cock Sucking Cowboys (Commando Steve) – so what in obese hell is going on?

Hayley breaks it to them that, ‘for the first time in Biggest Loser history’, the trainers will be the ones kicking some fatties to the curb!

Michelle looks PISSED. Shanny says he’s pissed, but his face is so rigid from the combination of Revlon Colourstay and Nature’s Way Growth Hormones, that Rico reckons we have to take his word for it. Commando Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t give a fuck and says if he has to put a fat cock on the block then let’s get it over with so he can go back to being on hold with Ashley and Martin.

Over to the elimination room and Hayley is trying to look concerned that the trainers haven’t yet made an appearance.

‘Picture showing up to your Year 12 ball and realising your date has forgotten her tampons!’ hisses some creepy production assistant in her earpiece, and, to her credit, she does a bang up job of emoting the SHIT out of it.

Oh but shock and surprise – here they come! As they sit down they grumble a bit more about this not being in the trainers’ job description because they’re about dolling out physical pain and unless they get to beat these blubbery bastards out the door, it isn’t going to be much fun.

Hayley, who’s still getting aurally bombarded, tells them to quit their whinging because, as per usual, there’s a soft-cock option and if they ‘choose not to vote’ the fatties who ate the most popcorn chicken – er, dropped the least chunk – will automatically get a seat on the Maxi Taxi.

Next to Kev, Rosemary rolls her eyes. At least, that’s what I think she does – her eyes, at this point, are as puckered as her brown loaf baker and anything at this point is sheer guesswork.

Anyhoo, the trainers go through the motions and ask some questions. Cher blubs that she needs to stay but – darnit – she wants to go home to her real family because she met this deluded bitch next to her in the auditions and she can’t seem to shake her. Deluded bitch Anita worries that Cher will accept failure if they leave and that her dreams of pumping out children with her stick-insect boyfriend will come to nothing.

Over to Kev and Rosemary and Michelle wants answers. Rosemary is ready for her, though, and at the first mention of the D-word she unhinges her jaw and lets loose a spray of profanities that Michelle bats away furiously in case they are loaded with carbs.

But if Rosemary thinks she’s seen the last of Michelle, she’s mistaken – and before long Michelle’s wanting to know what Kev’s doing when Rosemary’s asleep!

‘What kind of sick fuckery is THIS?’ Commando Steve whispers to Shannan. Shannan tells him to shut up – he saw a movie about this crap once in Tasmania and if this has the same ending, the last thing they should be worrying about is calories.

‘He’s fucking asleep beside me!’ Rosemary bellows. Michelle coughs ‘bullshit’ into her palm because Kev is shifting greasily in his chair and looking anything like the kind of man who closes his eyes and doesn’t bore tracks in the carpet on midnight chicken missions.

‘No.’ Admits Kev, causing Michelle to lean back in her chair and announce that her ass is waiting for Rosemary to spell ‘sorry’ on it with her lips.

Rosemary, who reckons Michelle’s got about as much chance of an apology as Amber has of one day being Mrs Todd, lurches to her feet and announces ‘that’s it – we’re leavin’!’

Michelle wants to know if Kev is just going to go along with this shit, but he’s already struggling out of his chair with the excuse that she’s his mother and who the fuck else is going to ensure his arteries are clogged with the Colonel’s finest?

Michelle reckons good riddance but Shannan was told before the show that he’s required to play ‘good cop’ this episode and that means following Kev and his rabid troll of a mother outside.

Rosemary is still frothing all over her jowls over the Bridges Inquisition becuase anyone would think this show is about weight loss and not making squillions from putting your name to an Obesity Rehab Retreat like that sloppy fucker Adro.

Shannan puts his orangey back into calming her down by telling her that Michelle’s probably on her rags and if they come back in and say sorry, he’ll make sure there’s a pot of popcorn chicken at the end of their rainbow.

In the end, Rosemary comes back inside. So does Kevin because mummy is boss – plus the elimination chairs are much more comfortable than Rosemary’s high horse.

When Rosemary gets back in she doesn’t waste any time apologising for her foul tongue. Unfortunately for Michelle, however, Rosemary looks about as sincere as a stranger in a white panel van with a bag full of puppies and even though the word ‘sorry’ gets squeezed through her mouth hole, it’s positively dripping with ‘fuck you’s and there isn’t an unrolled eyeball at the table.

‘Apology accepted’ says Michelle and Rico reckons good on her for treating Rosemary like an adult rather than just a giant dick in a cunt suit.

But – uh oh! – it’s voting time and Hayley reminds the trainers that if they don’t vote, Rosemary’s apology will be worth less than the middle finger it was written on.

It’s no surprise, then, that not one of these fuckers so much as touches the ballot and Big Kev and his junkyard dog of a mother are given their evacuating trousers.

‘For now!’ chirps Hayley, reminding them that they have the chance of getting back in the house providing they keep up the – cough – good work on the outside.

Fast forward a few weeks and there’s Rosemary and Kev grunting in the gym with a brand new trainer. The voice-over tells us that, since entering the house, Rosie and Kev have lost about 34 kg. I look questioningly at Rico and he confirms that – yes – this means that these lazy bastards have only lost about 14kg between them in the last three weeks and that Kev’s midnight romance with the deep fryer appears to be far from over.